


Three's a company

by torres



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torres/pseuds/torres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iker tries to get Fernando and Sergio back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a company

When Fernando caught sight of Iker and Sergio hovering at the edge of the crowd – heads bowed together, avoiding the party – he had an inkling of what was going on. And when the pair suddenly excused themselves and flitted off to the lifts, he had an idea of what they were planning to do.

So, it came as no surprise to Fernando that when he entered the room he shared with Sergio, Iker was making out heavily with the Sevillan.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for them to be making out on _his_ bed.

And he didn’t expect a tide of jealousy to wash over him as he watched his captain suckle hungrily at his ex-boyfriend’s swollen mouth.

And when he turned on his heel and made to leave, he certainly didn’t expect someone to run after him – and he most certainly didn’t expect for it to be Iker.

“Where do you think you’re going?” It came as a low growl, not much threatening, but intimidating nonetheless.

“I should go.” Fernando stuttered out, trying to move away again, “Just... tell me when you guys are done.”

“Uh-uh.” Iker caught his forearm again. The grip was relentless but his smile was sweet, “I think you should stay.”

The striker’s eyes flew to Sergio, who was gingerly letting his hands run over the sheets of Fernando’s bed. Sergio blinked innocently up at him.

And before Fernando could glance back at Iker, the goalkeeper had already pulled him forward ungracefully, wrapped one arm around his waist and pressed his lips wetly against his. Fernando’s shout of protest was muffled easily under Iker’s ravenous kiss. _Horny bastard_ , Fernando thought, trying to squirm away, but Iker kept him against his body effectively by using his free hand to grab a handful of the striker’s behind. Iker moaned appreciatively as he kneaded the flesh.

“Come on,” Iker’s breath washed hotly over his face, clasping at his hip tighter, and Fernando was torn.

This was Iker, el capitano, and more importantly, this was Sergio, his gitano. While they were already talking once in a while, it was still awkward; it hadn’t been long enough since they broke up and frankly put, Fernando was still at that point where he could easily want to fall right back into their relationship. And it wasn’t like he needed more reasons to come back to Sergio, but this was so complicated, and –

“Stop thinking,” Iker goaded in a whisper, before biting at the exposed flesh of Fernando’s neck. He nipped at it with his teeth, then licked the reddening marks. _Nip, lick, nip, lick, nip._ Fernando’s eyes fluttered shut and he groaned before he could stop himself.

“Sergio’s waiting,” Iker added deviously and a tiny shudder of excitement ran down Fernando’s spine. He stared with heavy eyelids at Sergio reclining on his bed. The defender had already whipped off his shirt and was now lightly playing with his own nipples, avidly watching the two. Fernando bit his lip, questions flying around wildly in his mind, until Sergio nodded at him – one curt, coaxing and deliberate nod – and suddenly, his defences were down.

Iker quickly caught the change: Fernando stopped tensing in his arms, the fright dissipating from his eyes. Wasting no time, he led the striker to the bed and all but threw him down the mattress. Sergio, who was leaning on the headboard, pulled up Fernando’s body roughly until the boy rested on him, back flat against the Sevillan’s toned chest, pale skin against bronze.

Iker hurriedly undressed then worked at undoing Fernando’s jeans, haphazardly tugging them off with the socks and shoes. Sergio’s hands already dove underneath Fernando’s shirt, roaming shamelessly, reacquainting himself with the feel of his body. Iker smirked at their efficiency, Fernando was bare-naked and spread out in less than a minute.

Fernando craned his neck upwards and his question was unsure, inaudible: “You and Iker...?”

Sergio firmly shook his head and planted a kiss on Fernando’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, then a fleeting peck on the lips. “No. No one, since.”

Iker’s tongue traced random patterns on the inside of Fernando’s thigh, ripping a loud breathless gasp of surprise from him. The goalkeeper was unforgiving, working in alternating hard and soft kisses along the sensitive skin, from the back of the knee, all the way up to where thigh met pelvis. Fernando squirmed erratically under him, hips helplessly thrusting forward, and Sergio groaned at the friction Fernando created against his crotch.

Fernando reached down to try and entwine his shaking fingers through Iker’s thick, dark hair. He wanted to guide Iker’s head closer to his erection, ask him to suck on it now _please now_ , but Sergio quickly locked his arms behind his back. Iker looked up and saw Fernando trapped, and he grinned almost evilly at Sergio. Fernando glanced up at the Sevillan questioningly, worriedly, but Sergio only murmured, “Shh.”

He caught Fernando’s lips into a kiss, soft at first, shy and awkward and tentative. Fernando let himself melt into it, and soon, they seemed to have found their old rhythm. When Fernando would part his lips, when Sergio would slip in his tongue, when Fernando would suck at it and when Sergio pushed in deeper to taste every dark crevice of the striker’s hot mouth. Fernando’s dick hardened as they made out because sweet mother of fuck, if there was one thing he missed, it was kissing Sergio. And it felt like there was so much to catch up on, so many things to explore again and yet, Sergio still tasted the same.

It was only when Iker slipped a cold, slippery finger up his entrance that Fernando tore away from Sergio, half-shouting in surprise and pained arousal.

“Oh, go on,” Iker smirked at them. He slid another lubed-up finger unceremoniously, then experimentally wriggling his digits inside Fernando, feeling at the soft insides and making the striker groan himself hoarse.

Sergio grinned proudly, his eyes glazed over with a voyeuristic sense of lust, and he leaned in close to catch Fernando’s lips again. All of Fernando’s later screams when Iker entered him were silenced by their kissing, but Sergio knew by the way the bed rocked and the way Fernando tensed and relaxed just when Iker was thrusting in and out.

Reaching around Fernando’s body, he clamped a tight fist around his throbbing cock and started jerking it quickly. Fernando pulled away and panted heavily, staring up at Sergio with such pent-up desire, the Sevillan couldn’t look away if he tried.

“I still miss you.” Fernando whimpered in bursts of ragged breathing. Sergio snarled possessively and stroked Fernando harder, planting his lips at the striker’s pulse and sucking like his life depended on it. Fernando threw back his head and groaned loudly. The idea of letting himself be feasted on by Sergio and Iker turned him on so badly, his dick was more swollen than he had felt it ever been.

Iker slowed down his actions now, entering Fernando inch by inch, as if to make him feel how massive his cock was, stretching the tight ring of muscle and nearly tearing it. It was in stark contrast to Sergio’s frantic actions, touching, tugging, kissing, sucking, licking Fernando everywhere and anywhere he could reach.

Fernando’s come shot out in long, thick spurts all over his chest, and his body slumped tiredly over Sergio’s. Iker watched in wonder as Sergio spread the hot, white liquid all over Fernando’s skin, rubbing it into Fernando’s nipples, and bringing what was left to Fernando’s lips to taste. Just the sheer erotic sight made Iker lose it; pushing in slowly but surely inside Fernando and staying still, he erupted into the boy with a strangled groan.

Sergio disentangled himself from Fernando in a frenzy and pushed Iker off before the goalkeeper could even recover from his orgasm. The Sevillan hastily unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down the denim and boxers to his knees as he positioned himself between Fernando’s legs for his turn. He couldn’t afford the luxury of Iker’s control and restraint. He was going to explode now, and if he was going to come, he wanted to mark the striker as well.

Pushing into Fernando’s sensitive hole – the striker groaned tiredly but just as wantonly – Sergio started pumping in erratically. He just needed release, and it was enough that it was Fernando’s heat wrapping tightly and clenching around him. He could feel Iker’s come still coating the striker’s insides, but that only made him pound in harder, Fernando shivering and sobbing in front of him, asking for more.

Gripping Fernando’s hips and pulling him upwards, Sergio drove in deeper and more purposively. Iker held Fernando’s shoulders down to stop him from thrashing and somewhere in the haze, Sergio screamed out Fernando’s name when he finally came.

Sergio didn’t remember what exactly happened after. He vaguely remembered collapsing over Fernando, tired and spent, the striker more tired and spent than him. Iker lay beside them, running his hands over the two, entranced and intrigued. Fernando immediately slipped into sleep, and Sergio must have been somewhere near that, kicking off his jeans and then crawling in just as naked with his two teammates.

“I told you – you both aren’t over each other yet. I win.” Iker smugly interrupted before Sergio could doze off.

“Well, you claimed your prizes, didn’t you?” Sergio scowled, gesturing at their three intertwined, sweaty and sticky bodies.

Iker reached out to flick off the bedside lamp and even in the dark, Sergio could sense Iker gloating triumphantly.

“This is a one-off,” Sergio warned headily, eyes slipping close involuntarily and tugging Fernando’s slumped body closer to his than to Iker’s.

“Fine,” Iker hissed, but decided to reach out to smooth down Sergio’s hair for good measure. “It’s not like you lost either anyway.”


End file.
